Beginning of Everything
by quietresilience09
Summary: I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything. - F. Scott Fitzgerald
1. Formality

They walk back towards the table, and she feels his hand slip out of hers. Lydia stares at the floor as he pushes his hands deep into his pockets and shuffles his feet.

Given that she was the one to break the spell, she's not sure why she suddenly feels a little lost.

Once he convinced her to join him on the dance floor, Stiles was shockingly smooth. His usual rambling speech quieted and his hands settled around her waist with an ease she didn't expect.

Actually, surprise seems to be the theme of the night. For as well as he reads her, she finds herself consistently and happily surprised by him.

Jackson, on the other hand, is easily predictable. At this point in the evening, he will be wasted and acting recklessly, despite the abundance of chaperones and parents in attendance.

So, as much as she finds herself enjoying her date with Stiles, her mind keeps wandering to the boy who originally stole her heart.

Stiles graciously gave her an out to search for the boy in question, and she eagerly accepted the opportunity.

But now, with the real prospect of going separate ways, she's not ready for the night to end.

Raising her gaze, she asks quietly, "Go with me?"

Surprise passes over his face and she suspects he nods before fully comprehending the question. She doubts he really wants to help her look for her ex-boyfriend, a boy who's never been kind to Stiles. Not that she can account for any better behavior.

She forces a smile before turning towards the gym doors.

As they walk outside, she glances at him under her lashes and he flashes her a goofy grin that she reciprocates despite her best intentions.

Wrapping her hands over her chilled arms, she calls out Jackson's name, searching the parking lot vainly. Stiles watches her before pulling off his jacket and offering it.

She stares at it a beat too long.

"You look cold," he explains, as if she doesn't understand the purpose of the garment.

Cautiously, she takes it, pulling it on and drowning in the oversized fabric. She stares at his frame, suddenly wondering what's beneath the starch white fabric of his dress shirt.

"You ok?"

She meets his eye, forcing a smile. "You should check the locker room."

He nods and turns, but stops mid-step when she doesn't follow.

"I'm gonna check the field," she explains.

He squints, his head tilting to the side. "I don't know if that's the best idea. It's dark and you don't know what's out there."

She stares at him with wide, unblinking eyes as she turns the phrase over in her mind. _You don't know what's out there. _She wonders how much he hears as the Sherriff's son.

She tries to remember a time Jackson spared a protective thought for her. She drops the line of thinking with her gaze.

"By now, Jackson's probably wasted. If we don't find him, the school will."

His brows crinkle. "That such a bad thing?" At her leveled and unamused gaze, he ducks his head with a smirk. "Yea, I'll look." He calls her name before she can walk away. "If you see anything, call me, ok?"

She nods before quickly turning and walking down the sidewalk.

Jackson, she reminds herself. Jackson is the one you're looking for.


	2. Omega

The Sheriff's coat lays heavy against her hunched shoulders. The EMTs covered her with two blankets as they checked her vitals, but shivers still rack her body.

She overhears the medics talking. She's been gone for two days. And if that's not terrifying enough, she remembers nothing of her time away. One minute, she's having a nightmare in the shower, the next she's walking in the woods, naked and alone.

Lydia glances out the open ambulance doors and locks eyes with him. Stiles stands a few feet away, staring at her, unmoving despite the crowd of hurried people around him. He's pale and frowning, his eyes filled with concern and compassion.

Swallowing, her voice cracks.

The EMT glances up from her clipboard. "What?"

She points to Stiles. His eyes widen as his head whips around, checking for anyone else, before he runs to the vehicle.

The EMT's gaze darts to the young man before returning to Lydia. "Are you sure?"

She nods, her eyes never leaving Stiles.

He hops in, the car swaying with the additional weight. He immediately sits beside her, but his legs dance beneath him and his hands flurry, seemingly unable to decide on a spot to land.

Closing her eyes, she leans heavily against him. She feels him hesitate beneath her, before his arm slides around her back. She shifts deeper into his embrace, her knees sliding against his thigh.

She feels his entire body freeze, muscles seizing up beneath her. She opens her eyes to find Sheriff Stilinski staring at the couple, simultaneously conveying annoyance and confusion.

Clearing his throat, he addresses Lydia, "I called your parents. They'll be waiting at the hospital."

She stares back at him, her impassive face unchanged by the news.

He nods towards his son. "You want Stiles to ride with you?"

She nods, the movement small, her cheek brushing against the soft fabric of his shirt.

The Sheriff leans into the ambulance, lowering his voice, "Can you tell me what happened, Lydia?"

She remembers the same cadence and expression after the incident at the video store. She stares at him, wondering how he manages to harbor that much concern and responsibility for an entire town.

Her eyes fall to the boy beneath her and she thinks of the way he looks out for Scott. She reaches for him, suddenly wanting to shield him from that kind of hardship. Her hand slides out of the large jacket and jerks to a stop. Angry, red scratches cover the pale skin on the back of her hand.

Stiles' voice rumbles from beneath her head, breaking her from her reverie, "Lydia?"

Swallowing roughly, she pulls her hand back beneath the heavy coat as she sits up slowly. His arm stays warm and solid behind her, and from her new position, she can see the marked worry over his features.

"I don't remember anything," she rasps, her voice hoarse and unused.


	3. Ice Pick

Stiles pulls her up and leads her off the ice. Tears still run down her face, but she stops screaming.

Lydia tries to catch her breath as she sits on a bleacher, his hands still around her shoulders.

Allison immediately sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her as Stiles takes a step back towards Scott.

The boys exchange whispered questions of concern over her recent behavior. She lifts her head and glares at them. They both immediately look away.

"I'm not crazy."

Stiles meets her insistent gaze, his face falling in defeat. "Believe me, no one here thinks you're crazy."

"What did you see, Lydia?" Allison asks quietly.

She swallows roughly, her eyes falling to the floor.

She came to this pseudo-date night to escape the whispers filling the halls of their school over her recent lost time in the woods. But, no matter what she does, how much she fights it, she can't seem to escape the nightmares.

And, that's all they are: nightmares. What she sees isn't real. It can't be real; no matter how it feels.

So, she does what she knows best: paints on a smile and pretends.

Raising her head, she smooths her dress over her tights, her voice nearly normal again. "I didn't see anything. I fell."

Stiles' scoffs, the noise loud in the empty rink. "You just did a triple lutz and you're claiming you fell?"

She stands, walking towards him, her voice insistent and firm, "That's why it scared me. I never fall. It was unexpected."

She walks away, out the doors to the darkened hallway. She presses her lips together tightly and clasps her still shaking hands. She blinks back tears, listening as her friends' footsteps join her.

* * *

Stiles drives her home.

He stares at her for most of the drive. Lydia expected nothing less, but still finds herself incredibly irritated.

Turning her head sharply from her gaze out the passenger side window, she bites, "I am not going to break down at any moment. I don't need your pity or your help."

His whole neck rolls as he returns his gaze back to the road ahead.

She rolls her eyes at his frown. "What?"

He shakes his head, sighing, "Nothing."

"What?" she asks again, her annoyance rising.

"I was watching you! You saw something on that ice! I don't know what's going on with you, Lydia, but I know I wanna help. I took you to that dance, I let you walk away, chasing Jackson." Pulling onto her street, he shifts the car into park with more force than necessary. "You were my responsibility and you got hurt." Turning slightly, he meets her gaze, his jaw tense. "So, yea, I know something's goin' on and I know you don't want to talk about it, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try and figure it out."

She stares at him, momentarily entranced.

Her entire body starts when he opens his door. She tries to slow her racing heart as he walks in front of the car and opens her door.

She stares at his ducked head and deep frown.

Stepping out of the car, she walks towards him, placing her hands on his chest.

She waits till he meets her gaze. "I'm not your responsibility. I wasn't then and I'm not now."

"You can talk to me," he responds, his voice full of warmth and sincerity.

Her eyes fill with tears as she whispers, "I'm not crazy."

His jaw locks as he stands straighter, his hands falling to her shoulders. "I believe you."

She nearly smiles at the lack of hesitation or rehearsal in his voice.

Tears fall as she shrugs. "I don't know what's happening to me."

His brow furrows as he steps closer, wrapping his arms around her hesitantly. She swallows roughly as she stands still in his embrace. Closing her eyes, she lets herself lean heavily against his chest and his arms tighten around her.

He ducks his head, his breath falling against her ear. "You don't have to go through this alone. We can figure this out."

Inhaling deeply, she steps back. She gives him a small smile, before leaning forward and pressing her lips to his cheek.

She watches his face as she leans away. His cheeks color and his lips quirk up in a genuine smile.


	4. Abomination

"Lydia!"

His voice wakes her.

A lizard the size of a man stands before her.

She screams, the sound echoing in the immense aquatic center.

Derek cringes before Stiles drops him and swims towards her. Grabbing her leg, he pulls her into the pool.

She crashes into the water, shrieking as she treads and tries to catch her breath.

Turning, she finds herself alone.

"Stiles?" Her eyes widen and her heart rate skyrockets. "Stiles?" she calls louder, futilely splashing the water.

He suddenly surfaces with Derek a few feet away. She swims towards them as they gulp in air.

"Quit doing that!" Derek bites.

Her brows furrow as she notes Derek's lack of movement, his arm slung heavily and awkwardly over Stiles' long shoulders. Stiles nods at her, a smile nearly gracing his lips.

She stares at them for a moment, waiting for any explanation. When neither speak, she yells, "What the hell is going on?"

Derek glares at her. "How did you find us?"

Her eyes widen impossibly. "I don't know! Does it matter? What the hell is that thing? And what is wrong with you?"

Stiles pushes the water, kicking his feet and breathing shallowly. "That—we don't know what that is. But it can paralyze you, which is what happened to Derek here. It doesn't seem to like water, which is why we're all swimming. Well, except for Derek."

She turns slightly to watch the monster creep towards the pool and then quickly back away.

Rolling her eyes, she swims towards them, grabbing Derek's other hand and sliding it across her shoulders. His weight immediately pulls her down and she struggles for a moment before finding her way back to the surface.

"So, is your plan to just swim forever?"

Stiles raises his brows and scoffs as Derek sighs. "Scott probably heard you." Both their heads spin towards him. "Your scream. It was loud. Too loud. I'm pretty sure Scott could hear it."

Stiles' eyes narrow. "You know, the night you went missing from the hospital, Scott could hear you then, too."

Derek glances at her sideways as she continues to fight against his dead weight. She has no idea why she's in this pool and she's tired of people asking questions she can't answer.

But, it turns out, she doesn't have to wait too long. Scott does show up minutes later. He did hear her.

* * *

"Will someone please tell me what is going on?"

Stiles holds up his hand as both boys stare at the computer, their shoulders taut with tension. "We will, Lydia. Just give us a second."

She glares at the back of his head, shivering in her wet clothes. "I just saved Derek Hale from—from something! Someone better start talking!"

Stiles turns to her. "And we will! But first, we have to figure this out."

"Figure what out?"

Scott leans towards the screen, asking, "Is that even a language?"

Stiles turns back towards the computer and Lydia steps forward to look over his shoulder.

She rolls her eyes, muttering, "It's archaic Latin."

Simultaneously, both boys spin towards her.

"You can read this?" Scott asks incredulously.

She shrugs. "I got bored with classical Latin."

Stiles stares at her before his whole body starts, his arms flying in emphasis. "Well, what does it say, Lydia?"

Her eyes narrow as her voice hardens. "Not till someone tells me what the hell is happening."

Derek walks up to their group. "It's a kanima and it's Jackson."

All three turn to him as Scott insists, "You don't know that and you can't kill him."

"I do know that. Just like I know there's something going on with her."

Derek points at her and her eyes go wide as her breathing stills.

Stiles sidesteps so that he stands in front of her, blocking her view of him.

"You think you're protecting them, but they are killing people."

"You don't know anything that's going on! You're guessing!" Scott retorts.

"Lydia just saved your life!" Stiles shouts.

"Yea? And how did she know to come to the pool at that exact moment? Huh, Stiles?"

Stiles steps forward, his eyes narrowing, "Are you threatening her? Because if you think—"

Scott holds up his hand. "Alright, this isn't helping. We need to be working together!"

"And what? You trust the Argents?"

"Well, we sure as hell can't trust you," Stiles mutters.

Derek's jaw tightens as he replies, measuring every word, "Jackson's dangerous. He's killing people. The Argents are going to want him dead, too."

They watch him walk away and Lydia whispers, "Is that true? Are they going to kill Jackson?"

Scott shakes his head. "I won't let him."

Stiles points to the computer. "We need to know what this says, Lydia. That's how we help Jackson."

Huffing out a sigh, she stomps towards the car, her eyes scanning the pages on the screen.

"A kanima's been bitten by a werewolf." She stops, her eyes shifting towards Scott. He meets her gaze.

She asks quietly, "It wasn't a mountain lion that bit me at the dance, was it?"

Scott drops his gaze and shakes his head.

She steps back from the computer, her eyes filling with tears.

She asks Stiles, pleading, "What happened to me?"

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunch, as he answers hesitantly, "We don't—we don't know. We think you might be immune."

Her voice raises as she steps towards him, "But, something happened to me, Stiles. I was in the hospital. I spent days in the woods. I—"

She stops, pressing her lips together tightly as her hands clench.

"You what?"

She shakes her head, stepping back towards the computer.

Clearing her throat, she begins again, "It says a kanima can't shape shift in the same way as a werewolf. It's—"

"—an abomination," Stiles interjects sadly.

"The kanima seeks a master," she reads softly. She raises her head, watching her friends trade bewildered looks. "Does that mean anything to you?"

They both shake their heads.

Stiles tilts his head. "That could explain why Jackson doesn't know what he's doing. Someone could be controlling him."

"Who?" Scott asks.

Stiles sighs and shakes his head, his whole body deflating as he kicks at the gravel in the parking lot.

Scott checks his phone and groans. "I gotta pick up my Mom." His eyes dart between Stiles and Lydia. "You guys got this?"

She watches Stiles nod and she wonders at Scott's immediate trust in his friend's assessment.

They stand, shifting on their feet, water still dripping from their clothes, as they watch Scott's car leave the now deserted and dark parking lot.

Turning towards him, she catches his eyes sliding over the wet clothes that still cling to her form. His gaze returns to hers and she smirks and raises her brow.

He scoffs, his lips turning up in a small smile as his cheeks color. "Sorry."

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes as she returns to his computer.

"You're taking this a lot better than I thought."

She tilts her head, e-mailing herself the documents on Stiles' laptop and admitting quietly, "I'm actually scared I'm going to wake up and this will all be a dream."

He steps towards her. "We wanted to tell you—I wanted to tell you. We were just trying to protect you, Lydia, from all of this."

She closes the computer, snapping, "Yea, well that didn't really work out. Did it?"

Turning towards him, she sighs at his downcast face and softens her voice, "Look, I'll see what I can translate tonight. I'll let you know what I find out."

He nods and she steps towards her car.

He calls her name, stilling her movements.

"Thanks. I didn't get to say it before, but thanks for saving me in the pool. I'm really glad you're helping us. "

She hesitates, keeping his gaze a moment too long, before giving him a small smile.


	5. Venomous

Lydia settles into her seat in the back of the class. She glances up to find Stiles nodding at her, his eyes alight.

The teacher thankfully starts class before she can respond.

As the lecture begins, Lydia's eyes dart back to the brown haired boy.

After one night in his life, she wonders how he manages to balance everything.

She checked his GPA, still one of the highest in the class. (And several points behind her.) He saved Derek Hale during a lacrosse game. He keeps these secrets from his father, who polices this town full of nightmares and murder. All while his best friend transforms into a werewolf.

And for all his rambling and agitation, he seems emotional steady. Even after the confrontation with a kanima and the discovery of an encyclopedia of supernatural creatures, he acts like it's another normal day.

She envies him.

With the revelation of the supernatural in Beacon Hills, she finds herself slipping between reality and fiction. Slipping between what she knows and what she dreams.

She shakes herself from her tangled thoughts and raises her head, only to find herself at the blackboard. Her heart ratchets up several notches at the garbled mess staring back at her. Her eyes widen as she drops the chalk in her hand. She turns slowly, watching her classmates teeter around her. Her throat burning and her eyes hot and wet, she slinks back to her seat.

Yep, a breakdown sounds about right.

* * *

Stiles walks beside her through the halls. He stands too close, his hand resting on her back.

"What the hell was that back there?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he swivels his head, watching the hall from all sides.

"Forget about it. What's up?"

"I didn't get a chance to mention a few things last night."

She rolls her eyes and notes a few stray stares from their classmates at their proximity.

"Well?"

"Isaac is also a werewolf."

Her muscles tighten as she leans towards him. "How is that possible?"

He shakes his head. "It's a longer story than we have time for. We think they're going to try to get to Jackson here at school."

She tenses, focusing on keeping her voice and face impassive. "That's insane! We are at school. He has no proof that it's Jackson."

Stiles shrugs, his hand sliding further across her back, till she's nearly tucked into his side. She glances up at him to assess his intentions. He looks so distracted, his gaze bouncing up and down the hall, that she doubts he means the physical proximity as a come-on for anything other than safety. He is by far the strangest teenage boy she's ever met.

They turn towards their chemistry class and she stops abruptly in the middle of the hallway. Stiles takes another step, before turning towards her, his brows furrowed.

"What?"

"Isaac doesn't have next period with Jackson."

He shrugs. "Ok?"

"He has it with us." His eyes widen at her revelation. "We have chemistry with him."

He nods. "And Derek's still interested in you."

She feels the seconds count down towards the bell.

He steps towards her, filling her entire line of sight. "It's fine. Scott and Allison are in there with us. We'll be together. We just gotta get through fifty minutes, right?"

Her heart stutters and skips in her chest as she raises her head to meet his gaze.

For all his frenetic motion, she's never seen him so still. It gives her enough reassurance and confidence to nod and begin walking towards their classroom door.

Stiles sits on one side of her, Scott on the other, as their teacher announces today's activity will involve changing lab partners.

She wants to scream. She presses her lips together tightly as her hands ball into fists.

She watches Erika taunt her best friend and she swallows her scream whole, biting her lip till it bleeds.

Ten minutes till the bell, Isaac sits at her lab table.

She continues the experiment, her voice calm and even, "You will not hurt Jackson."

He shrugs, glancing behind him at Stiles and Scott. "It's hard to say what I'll do if I ever got either of you alone."

She glares at him, tilting her head. "Do you really think I'm scared of you?"

He leans towards her, attempting to tower over her. "Maybe you should be."

She smiles, leaning forward till their lips are inches apart. "All I have to do is think of the way you asked me out, not so long ago. Nothing scary about that." She leans back, rolling her eyes. "Sad, actually."

Stiles and Scott stand simultaneously as Isaac's fingernails turn into claws and his eyes shift to yellow.

The bell rings and she gets up with a bounce, walking the long way around the table and passing their teacher on the way out of class.

In the hallway, Stiles returns to her side, his step matching hers, his hand on her back.

"Not the smartest thing I've seen you do."

"He's going to kill Jackson. We need to find him."

Stiles nods, leading them towards the library.

* * *

For once, Jackson seems as intent on talking to her as she is to get his attention. She doesn't question it, uses the momentum to her advantage to get him to Scott's house.

It's only when he corners her alone, yelling for the last piece of their shredded relationship, that she realizes just how much she's chosen to ignore: Jackson's odd and erratic behavior; her own nightmares; Allison and Scott's relationship; Stiles.

And as much as she wants to continue shutting out all these things, it's not working. She's not happy or safe, and neither is Jackson. Neither is anyone, as it turns out.

In between all the confusion and noise, Jackson kisses her.

Then, everything goes to hell.

Yelling and growls fill the house. Glass breaks, wood cracks, and she hides.

She listens to a long moment of silence, before she opens the bathroom door with shaking hands. She watches Jackson crawl out the window, completely transformed into the kanima.

She screams, the noise echoing through the house and down the street.

Stiles runs up the stairs and into Scott's empty room. Tears fall down her cheeks as she tries to catch her breath.

He reaches for her, but she steps back, shaking her head. "No! What is happening? Where did he go?"

His face falls as Scott calls for him downstairs.

Stiles' arms raise over his head as his eyes dart between the open door and her. "Ah! I—I will call you when I know something, Lydia, I swear, but I gotta—I gotta help Scott—" She lowers her gaze, her shoulders slumping in defeat. He steps towards her, pleading, "I promise I will call you—"

Her head snaps up and her tears stop.

She may not have all the details, but she knows she wants to help Jackson. And maybe, find some answers for herself along the way.

Wiping her cheeks, she responds calmly, "Take me with you."

His brows raise to his hairline. "What?"

"You and Scott are going after Jackson, right?"

Stiles mouth falls open as Scott yells for him again, this time his voice floating in through the window from the front yard.

She struts past his rushed protests, determination in her steps.


	6. Frenemy

"She shouldn't be here."

Lydia rolls her eyes. "She has a name and is sitting right behind you."

Stiles parks the car, jumping out and closing the door behind her. "Well, she hasn't listened to a word I've said. So now, I'm talking to Scott."

A few feet away, Scott interjects breathlessly, "Guys, we need to find it before it hurts anyone else."

"Not it. Jackson," Stiles reminds him.

Lydia glances at Stiles, grateful for his discrimination. Turning, her gaze lands on the brick building on the edge of the parking lot.

Her heart stutters in her chest as she whispers, "I know this place."

"Is this some place Jackson took you?"

She shakes her head, her eyes wide with fear. "No. Danny brought me here."

* * *

Two hours later, Lydia stands in the forest, the leaves beneath her feet. A police van sits forty feet away, holding a handcuffed and angry, but human, Jackson.

She shakes her head, her entire body wrought with tension. Her arms cross tightly over her chest and her lips press firmly together. She refuses to meet the gaze of either Scott or Stiles.

"No. This is wrong."

"Oh my God, Lydia!" Stiles exclaims, "What do you want us to do? I'm sorry your ex-boyfriend is a murderous lizard, but he is. So, what else can we do?"

Her eyes narrow as she steps towards him and points towards the police van. "That is not an option. That is kidnapping and Jackson's dad is going to kill you and your father."

He smirks, pulling out a cell phone from his jacket pocket. "No, he won't. I've been texting him all day from Jackson's phone."

She rolls her eyes, snatching the phone. "Give me that. You sound nothing like him." She scrolls through the messages and gasps, her eyes growing impossibly large. "You said, 'I love you'?"

Stiles' gaze darts between his two friends. "What's wrong with that?"

Lydia groans, shaking her head. "I have to fix this. Call Allison and tell her I'm on my way. She needs to stall till I get there."

* * *

In the principal's office, she stands beside Allison, meeting the skeptical stares of the three taller, older gentleman.

"This is all a big misunderstanding. Jackson was with me last night. We had a little too much to drink and—" she laughs, waving off their indiscretion with a flick of her hand. "I think he's still sleeping it off."

Jackson's father pulls out his cell phone. "How does that explain his messages?"

She pretends to read the texts, before shrugging. "You know how people are after a few too many: saying things they wouldn't normally say, hung over, missing school—"

"—we don't take these things lightly, young lady," Allison's grandfather interrupts, "But, I'm glad you stepped forward. There will be consequences for Jackson for skipping school. And if we ever find—"

"Never again, sir. I promise."

Lydia smiles sweetly at Jackson's father, who seems momentarily convinced. Sheriff Stilinski seems the least persuaded, watching her with narrowed and suspicious eyes.

Leaving the office, she pulls out her phone.

Allison lays her hand on her wrist, shaking her head. She stills and follows her friend outside to her car.

Once the doors shut behind them, Allison explains, "They installed cameras everywhere. It's safer here."

Lydia nods, momentarily wondering what she's gotten herself into as she dials Stiles' number.

"Did they buy it?"

"For now. But, the story doesn't hold. It barely makes sense."

"But they believed you?"

"Yes, Stiles. I expertly lied to our principal and your father, all so your insane and very illegal plan can continue."

"Look, you're right. I'm sorry, Lydia—"

"Just tell me you have an end game."

"I don't know. I'm trying to talk to Jackson."

She sighs, her eyes falling shut. "That won't work."

"Well, what else can we do? If you have any better suggestions, I'm all ears."

"I'm going to talk to Danny. See if he knows why Jackson tried to kill him last night."

Shuffling and murmurs fill the background of their conversation.

Scott's voice appears on the line, "My mom just called. Danny's still at the hospital. I'll meet you there."

* * *

At the hospital, they run into Scott's mother in the hallway.

Lydia pretends to walk away, but continues to eavesdrop on their conversation. She listens as Scott's mom relays that if his grades do not improve, he may be held back a year.

Her heart constricts in her chest. Even with her limited knowledge, she recognizes that Scott is their safety net amid this world of monsters and wolves.

Ending the conversation, Scott walks past Lydia, towards the exit.

She runs towards him in her heels, struggling to keep up with his pace.

"Do you know where Danny parked his car?" he asks, his focus already back on their original mission.

She nods, walking through the doors with him.

She offers, in what she hopes is a light tone, "You know, if you need help, I could tutor you."

He stops, his brows raising towards his hairline, before stuttering out a yes. "That would be awesome, Lydia. Really, thank—"

"Only if you tutor me on the supernatural presence in Beacon Hills."

His mouth opens, then closes, before he glances around the nearly empty parking lot. "I don't know if that's the best idea—"

"Keeping me in the dark, doesn't work. It hasn't worked, it will continue to not work. You need me. Not just for the tutoring, which you definitely need, but also because I'm a genius."

Scott tilts his head. "This stuff isn't just in books or—"

"Are you kidding? There are millions of academic investigations to be discovered from what you're going through."

"Like what?"

"Your biology, genetics, mythology—"

"—alright, alright, I get it. We need you."

She nods, satisfied.

"But, you still need to talk to Stiles."

"Why?" she asks skeptically.

"I'm not sayin' you need his approval. You're obviously going to make whatever choice you want. But, Stiles can tell you way more about all that stuff than I can. And Stiles can also tell you exactly what you're risking. I didn't choose this. Stiles choose it because he's my best friend. This isn't some science experiment, Lydia. We kept you in the dark to keep you safe, to keep you alive."

* * *

Lydia sits beside Stiles on the hood of his jeep, their backs against his windshield, as he recounts his adventures with Scott over the past year.

He lets out a long breath of air. "That's basically it. Well, in terms of what's happened with Scott."

She nods slowly, still digesting all the information. "And you think I'm immune?"

"That was our original hypothesis." Tilting his head, he watches her profile. "But, that's not the whole story. Is it?"

Her head whips sharply, meeting his gaze with a glare.

"C'mon, Lydia, I saw you walk out of those woods. I was there when you screamed bloody murder on that ice rink. Hell, even in class today, do you know what you wrote on the board? 'Someone help me'."

At her lack of response, he lets out a long sigh, dropping his head back against the windshield, exhaustion seeming to settle over his features. "I just wanna know if you're ok, Lydia."

She drops her glare, shifting next to him. "I might believe that more if my best friends hadn't lied to me all this time."

At his lack of response, she turns her head to find him smirking at her. "We're your best friends?"

She rolls her eyes, wrapping her hands over her chilled arms. "Do you see anyone else, Stiles?"

Shifting off his coat, he places it on her lap, replying, "We're not exactly living a party central, normal, high school lifestyle. It didn't make sense to drag you into all this."

Her jaw clenches even as she pulls on his jacket. "You said you saw me at the dance. I'm more than that."

He apologizes, sincerity in his voice, "You're right. I'm sorry."

A silent moment passes between them. She finds herself actually enjoying the cool night air and the sounds of the forest. Sitting here, the woods lose the power they hold in her nightmares.

Feeling brave, she admits in a whisper, "I see him."

His head pops up as he asks, "Peter Hale?"

"I don't know who that is!"

He clenches his eyes shut, letting out a long sigh. "Fine. You're right. Keeping you in the dark is not actually accomplishing the wanted outcome, which is to keep you safe. But, you gotta admit, it was a good idea in conception."

"It lacked in actual execution."

He smiles, his eyes traveling over her face. Her stomach falls at the astonishment in his expression, like she's Christmas morning and he's just gotten everything he's asked for.

But, she knows the truth. Despite their recent disclosures, there still lies a canyon of secrets between them.

As well as he reads her, he still doesn't know the nightmares that keep her up at night or the horrors her mind dreams up in the middle of the day.

She's not Christmas morning. She's one step away from an insane asylum.

So, she rolls her eyes, pushing him away, and feigning impatience. "Don't look at me like that, Stilinski. I'm still not joining you in prison when you get put away for kidnapping and stealing police property."

He groans. "What the hell am I gonna do?"

She lets out a long sigh, her smile still intact. "Let's go back. I have an idea."

* * *

Allison drives her home. After such a short respite, the world seemed to erupt again as they discovered Jackson escaped the police van.

Lydia searches through the dark of the passenger window, willing herself to see Jackson, even though she's sure he's already gone.

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this."

Lydia's head spins towards her friend. "I'm not." Allison's brows raise as her eyes dart to her. "I knew something was going on, just no one would tell me what. Not knowing is actually scarier than knowing."

Allison lets out a small breath as she tilts her head. "Makes sense, in a way."

Lydia's lips turn up in a sly smile. "So, what was so distracting that you and Scott both missed Jackson fleeing the scene?"

Allison turns red, even as she grins. She shakes her head ruefully. "We shouldn't have—"

Lydia scoffs and interrupts her friend, "I don't even know how you two have waited this long! It's ridiculous!"

Allison groans. "What happened to our lives?"

"I don't know. But, I'm glad you're the one I'm going through this with."


End file.
